


Burning from Both Ends

by MagitekUnit05953234



Series: Fires of a Childhood's Pyre [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Absent Parents, Angst, Gen, Mildly Implied Disordered Eating, Neglect, Overworking, Poor Prompto Argentum, Pre-Canon, Prequel, brotherhood era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 08:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagitekUnit05953234/pseuds/MagitekUnit05953234
Summary: It’s the little things that keep Prompto going. The way Noct will smile when Prompto manages to make a good joke. The way the sun will shine in through the dusty windows of Prompto’s apartment, rising among picture-perfect dawn-pinked clouds. The way this little styrofoam cup of cocoa tastes: oversweet, full of empty calories, and oh sogood.





	Burning from Both Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts "cocoa powder" and "rubber bands."  
> This is a prequel of If Only Burnout Could Keep You Warm. You can read either one of these first, honestly— just know that I wrote Burnout first.  
> As always, no beta. I'm a mess.

Prompto has so little time these days. The rent for his slummy apartment just got upped by his xenophobic landlord (oh gods _why_ does that guy own property in the immigrant district) and every landlord in the district followed suit, it seems. At this point, the only cheaper place for Prompto to live would be the streets —which isn’t an option. He has school and…well, there’s no way Prompto could hide homelessness from Noct and he _can’t_ lose Noct. No way.

Prompto works. He takes as many shifts as he can at his jobs and sets alarms in the dead of night to wake himself up so he can actually finish his homework before its due. Wake up at 3:00, work on homework for as long as it takes, then go back to sleep until 6:15. He doesn’t have time to prepare healthy meals, so he eats too little because he _can’t_ slip backward. Not when he’s made it this far. He doesn’t have time to hang out with Noct outside of class. He doesn’t have time to breathe and yet—

And yet here Prompto is. He’s sitting on a bench in the park a few blocks from a school he can only attend thanks to scholarships he’s bound to lose soon thanks to his steadily dropping grades. The wind bites through his jacket and he huddles over his cup of hot cocoa.

Two dollars is too much for a cup of cocoa. The ten minutes Prompto is allowing himself to enjoy it is too much time lost, too much time _idle_. It’s too much, yet Prompto couldn’t stop himself from taking just this one brief respite for himself after parting ways with Noct when classes were over.

It’s the little things that keep Prompto going. The way Noct will smile when Prompto manages to make a good joke. The way the sun will shine in through the dusty windows of Prompto’s apartment, rising among picture-perfect dawn-pinked clouds. The way this little styrofoam cup of cocoa tastes: oversweet, full of empty calories, and oh so _good_.

This is why Prompto keeps working. This cocoa. The dawn. Noct. Keep on pushing on and someday things will be easier.

If only Prompto wasn’t so _tired_.

Prompto’s phone rings —a timer signaling the end of his free time. He downs the dregs of his cocoa and throws the cup away on his way to the street. He has a few minutes to wait for the bus, so he huddles in the bus shelter and takes these moments to text Noct back. He’d been avoiding replying as he drank his hot cocoa. He didn’t want his lies to turn that luxury bitter.

 **Noct (Thurs 3:32 PM)** you wanna hang out this weekend? we can just work on chem homework or something if youre too busy to play video games. we havent hung out for a while and chem (1/2)

 **Noct (Thurs 3:32 PM)** (2/2) is way harder without you around to help. not that thats the only reason i want you around. you get it

 **< < (Thurs 3:51 PM)** we’ll have to see how things go. If i don’t have to work then absolutely dude

Prompto already knows that he will work nonstop this weekend. He knows that Noct will stop accepting Prompto’s excuses eventually. He just hopes that won’t be anytime soon.

 **Noct (Thurs 3:53 PM)** man your boss needs to hire more people or something

 **Noct (Thurs 3:53 PM)** i swear youve worked every night this week

Prompto has.

The bus rumbles up to the stop and Prompto tucks his phone into his pocket. He shoulders his school bag and steps up as the door opens.

As he sits down, Prompto thanks the gods (not for the first time) that he bought a year-long bus pass before rent went up a few months ago. If he had to pay for every bus ride he takes he’d have to walk everywhere and Insomnia is far too big for Prompto to manage that. He’d have to change jobs, shop at the expensive corner store a few blocks down instead of the cheaper chain across the district, and stop going to school with Noct and—

 _Nope. Don’t think about that,_ Prompto chides himself. _Count your blessings._

Prompto pulls off his tie and jacket, then digs through his bag to unearth his uniform shirt. It’s all wrinkled from being crammed beneath his books, but it’s hopefully passable enough for Prompto to avoid getting yelled at by the evening manager. Prompto unbuttons his collared shirt and puts his uniform top over his undershirt as quickly as he can after shoving the collared shirt back in his bag.

Changing shirts on the bus used to be embarrassing, but Prompto has had to get used to it since he can’t clock in on time if he changes after he gets to work. Just sit in the back away from other passengers and it’s almost as if you stop existing.

There’s twenty minutes left before Prompto is dropped off two awful miles from the Crow’s Nest he’s scheduled to work at ‘til six. After that, he has another bus to catch so he can close at Distant Worlds Cafe at an hour past midnight. Distant Worlds caters to procrastinating college students who need coffee and free wifi until the wee hours of the morning to finish their papers, so the cafe doesn’t close until one. It should be illegal to close that late in Prompto’s opinion, but at least the busses in that district run late to accommodate the universities. If Prompto had to work at Kenny’s until one he’d be up a creek with no paddle, so to speak.

The four bus rides in Prompto’s day are the best —and usually only— times Prompto has to work on homework outside of his mid-sleep work hour and lunch period. A trip to school, to each job, then home is all he’s got. He makes it work… sorta.

Prompto tries to focus on trig for the twenty minutes to Kenny Crow’s but really only manages to get through a few proofs before his brain decides that executive function is for chumps and math is completely incomprehensible.

Well. He tried.

Prompto barely remembers to put his hair up before he walks into work. His hair, which he doesn’t exactly have the time or money to get cut these days, has grown so long that he either has to put it up or suffer the indignity of a hair net while serving food. He knows what he prefers. The cheap rubber bands Prompto uses snap at inopportune times and pull out his hair when he tries to take them out, but they do the job well enough.

He sweeps his bangs out of his face with a pin, pulls his hair up from where its begun to grow a tad too long over his neck and ears, and takes a moment to prepare outside the employee door of the Kenny’s. He’s tired, but he will work. He has to work.

If Prompto's parents won’t provide for him, then by the gods Prompto will do it himself. His friends have enough issues to deal with without him begging for help on top of it. He can deal with this alone. He’s doing well enough so far.

Prompto punches his time card. Another day, another dollar.


End file.
